


Break Free

by charmingoutlaws (twdsunshine)



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-04-06 17:03:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19066891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twdsunshine/pseuds/charmingoutlaws
Summary: Sequel to Let’s Pretend [https://archiveofourown.org/works/17731970].The reader has shut herself off from the world, consumed by her grief for Jax Teller.  Alarm bells ring for Tig when she doesn’t appear in Charming for the funeral, and he makes the long ride up to see her, hoping he’ll be able to help her recover again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is it, folks - the last instalment in The Other Guy saga. This story has dominated my life for nearly a year now, and it’s so close to the end, and I’m not ready! We rejoin our reader a couple of weeks after the end of Let’s Pretend and she’s not doing so good. Thank you to everybody that’s still reading! I hope you see it through with me now that we’re so, so close! And I hope you enjoy… Let’s do this!

It took a little too long for you to realise that the incessant pounding you could hear wasn’t in your head but at your door.  Lack of sleep, plus alcohol and a head full of poisonous thoughts, had combined into what was now going on a three-day migraine, and you buried your face in your pillow as the knocking continued, praying that whoever was on the other side might go away, but they were persistent, the hammering growing harder and louder until you finally dragged your lethargic body out of bed and shuffled down the hall.  It felt strange to be upright.  You’d spent the best part of the last two weeks in your bed, hidden away beneath the covers, letting life and the world outside pass you by as you grieved.  Two weeks?  That thought hit you hard.  Had it really been two weeks already?  Two weeks since that phone call, the one that had turned your world upside down all over again.  Two weeks since Jax had left you, forever.

The knocking ceased as you wrestled with the chain, finally tugging it free and yanking the door open to stare down whoever had had the audacity to interrupt your despair.

‘Wow, sweetheart, you look like shit.’

Tig Trager stared right back at you, brow furrowing in concern as he took in your dishevelled state.  For a brief second, embarrassment prodded at the edges of your pain, your self consciousness attempting to break through your suffering, but it didn’t last.  What did it even matter what you looked like anymore really?  You were alone.   You would always be alone.  The universe seemed to conspire to see to that.  Your sweatpants hung low on your hips, the bones protruding far more than normal after two weeks of choking down a slice of dry toast only when your hunger finally registered through the fog.  Your tank top was stained with the whiskey you’d spilt down it the night before as you’d attempted to swig from the bottle without sitting up, and your hair was greasy, scraped back from your face in a lopsided bun that sat wonkily on the top of your head.  You knew from the few occasions that you’d ventured out of bed to use the toilet that you looked drawn and tired, but it had seemed right to you.  You were withering away, giving up, because what did you really have to live for?

When you didn’t speak, Tig stepped inside, dropping his bag so he could wrap you up in a tight hug, pulling you against his chest.  You let him but made no move to hug him back.  You weren’t even sure why he was here.  With Jax gone, so, in your head, was your last tie to the club.  After all, it was him that had brought them back into your life after you’d walked away, starting afresh after the pain of losing Opie.  Now that he was gone too, your desire to distance yourself from the MC had only increased.  

Oblivious to the cold direction of your thoughts, Tig squeezed you harder, finally releasing you when you still failed to respond, holding you at arm’s length so he could peer into your bloodshot eyes.  ‘How’re you holding up, baby?’

You fought the urge to scoff, but the instinct won out, and his frown deepened as you shook your head, a humourless smirk quirking your lips.  But, before he could say anything further, you turned your back on him, leaving him standing in the hallway as you hurried back to your room.

Minutes passed, then the bed dipped as Tig settled himself beside you, a large hand resting on your shoulder over the covers.  You squeezed your eyes shut, half wishing that he’d leave and half desperately wanting him to stay, and, when you remained hidden from his view, he began to speak quietly.

‘Oh, baby, I know.  I know you’re hurting.  I’m so sorry, baby.  I’m so sorry this happened to you again.’

‘Why are you here?’  The words were muffled by the thick blanket that covered you, your voice croaky from lack of use, but you could tell by the way Tig’s hand froze in its steady movement back and forth along the length of your arm that he’d heard you.

‘It was the funeral a couple of days ago, doll.  When you didn’t show, I just… I got worried, I guess.  I wanted to come check in on you.’

‘You could’ve just called.’

‘You think I didn’t try that?  I did, like twenty times.  Chibby too.’  Again the bed dipped as he shifted his weight, and then light streamed in as he peeled the covers back from your face, waving your cellphone in front of you.  ‘Think your battery died.  Guess you didn’t think to charge it, huh?’

That made sense.  Now that you thought about it, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d even touched the phone.  You’d retrieved it from where it had landed when you’d flung it across the room, so angry at Chibs, at Jax, at the world for stealing away another opportunity for happiness, but the screen was cracked and broken, and it was the last thing you wanted to deal with, so you’d just set it aside.  You hadn’t even called work to tell them that you wouldn’t be in, and you wondered idly now whether you still had a job to go to.  It was probably for the best that you didn’t.  You brought darkness to everything you touched.  They were better off without you.

‘You shouldn’t have come, Tig.’

‘You sure about that, sweetheart?  You kinda look like you could use a friend right now.’

‘I want to be alone.’

‘Yeah?  That why you’ve been abandoning the whole personal hygiene thing, huh?  Can’t say it suits you, but, hell, I’ve seen worse.’

‘I mean it, okay?  I don’t want a friend.  I don’t want to need anybody.  I just want you to go.’

‘I can’t do that, baby.’

‘Then just get out of here!  I’ve got a headache and I’m tired.  I want to sleep.’

‘Alright.’  You heard him sigh, felt him roll off of the bed and the thud of his boots as he crossed to the door.  ‘Alright, princess, if that’s what you want, I’ll leave you to sleep.  But I’ll be right out here if you need me.  I’m not going anywhere.’

‘Yeah, I’ve heard that before.’

As the door clicked shut behind him, you swallowed hard, letting your eyes flicker closed again as you fought against the tears that were never far from falling.  You’d intended to miss the funeral.  It hadn’t been a mistake.  You could still feel the overwhelming heartache of seeing Ope at his memorial, laid out in his coffin, skin eerily pale, cold to the touch.  It had been him - his lips, his beard, his hands with his rings on his fingers - and yet it hadn’t been, and you’d wished for a long time afterwards that you could banish the image from your mind and remember him how he’d been in life.  Your last memories of Jax were of tangled limbs in the same bed that had now become your escape, of permanent frown lines etched into his skin and the way he smiled against your mouth as he kissed you.  You hadn’t wanted to exchange those for the image of his corpse.  And so you’d stayed away.  It had just been easier that way.

You should have known really that Tig would come.  When you’d found yourself as part of the SAMCRO family he’d been one of the people you’d warmed to first, and you’d stayed close in the years that followed.  Where Jax had been your first love, though he’d been married at the time, and Opie the first man who’d shown you what it meant to be loved, Tig had been your constant, the one who always seemed to know the right thing to say, who could finish your sentences and knew exactly what you needed, often before you did yourself.  When Opie had been killed in retaliation for going after the organisation that your brother had headed up, The Collective, he’d bought you your freedom, but it had been Tig that had given you the strength to go out and claim it.  His absence from your life had left a huge gap during the seven years that you’d stayed away, building yourself a normal life in a normal town surrounded by normal people, totally outlaw free, and, when Jax had been released from prison and come to you for a place to lay low while he figured out his next move, your reunion with the ex-Marine and Chibs, his Scottish brother, had been an added bonus.

The ghost of a feeling nagged at you as you rolled onto your back and tucked the blanket under your arms, growing uncomfortably warm beneath the thick weight of it, and you recognised it eventually as guilt, perhaps the first thing you’d felt in too long other than that overwhelming, all-consuming pit in your stomach caused by grief.  You’d snapped at Tig, perhaps the best friend you had left, asked him to go, practically ordered him out of your house.  He’d tried to hold you and you’d just walked away, after he’d spent hours travelling to be at your side.  You let out a shaky sigh.  You hadn’t asked him to come.  It was hard enough for you to keep from breaking apart completely right now, without having to worry about being the perfect host for somebody else.  He should’ve known that, shouldn’t he?  He should have respected your right to grieve in your own way, shutting out the world and pretending that it didn’t exist, just for a little while.  He should understand what you were going through.  After all, you may have lost the man you loved, had loved for as long as you could remember, but he’d lost him too: his President, his brother in arms, his comrade.  The guilt intensified and you shut it down.  He should’ve known better.  You weren’t going to feel bad for needing your space.  You were doing just fine.

 

* * *

 

 

At some point, exhaustion must’ve overwhelmed you, because it was dark when you woke.  You’d had the nightmare again, the same one you’d had every time sleep had crept up on you over the past couple of weeks:  Jax was riding towards you, snaking between cars in his hurry to reach you, the engine of his bike an angry growl that grew louder and louder until it was more like a scream, and then he’d disappear, the only trace of him the echo of his voice calling your name, and you’d wake with a start, feeling his loss, fresh and raw, all over again.

Through the window now, as your heart rate gradually returned to normal, you could see the streetlamps illuminating the night, hear the steady thrum of the traffic that continued to pass on the road outside, but otherwise, the apartment was silent.  Rolling onto your side to squint at the time on the clock on your bedstand, you found a glass of water and a couple of painkillers, and the guilt you’d been feeling hit you again, like a punch to the gut.  Even after you’d been so rude, treated him so horribly, Tig was still trying to look after you, and in that moment, vulnerable and sleep-dazed, you wanted nothing more than to let him.

As it always did in the night, your bed felt far too big, the other side cold and empty, and you reached your hand across to the opposite pillow, tracing your fingers over the creases in the fabric.  You hadn’t changed it since Jax had left to go back to Charming, though his scent had faded from it far too quickly.  If you closed your eyes again, scooted over to the centre of the mattress, you could almost imagine that you could feel the heat emanating from his body, his arm heavy across your waist, hear the soft snores that fell from his lips as he slept.  Almost.  It did little to ease your loneliness.

Swinging your legs out of bed, you plodded across the room and out into the hallway, making for the living room, though you found that also in darkness.  A single coffee mug sat beside the sink, and there was a bowl on the coffee table that had obviously been used as an ashtray, but otherwise there was no trace that Tig had been there.  Panic seized your heart, and you hurried back the way you’d come, easing open the door to the spare room and letting out a sigh of relief when you saw that the lumpy old futon had been made up, a single figure stretched out beneath the thin quilt, his crazy curls dark against the cream of the pillowcase.  He’d stayed.  You were surprised to find that you were glad.

Closing the door quietly behind you, you tiptoed across to the bed, lifting the cover so you could slip beneath it and curl against his back.  Your presence stirred him, and he shifted over, rolling to face you, inviting you into his embrace, safe and strong.  The scent of leather was heartbreakingly familiar as you nestled against him, the sensation of being held so comforting that you felt yourself begin to crack, and then you were crying, ugly, choking sobs that racked your body and caught in your throat.  He didn’t speak.  He didn’t need to.  Pulling you closer, he held you to him with one arm, whilst the other hand crept up to pull your hair from its tie, stroking it back from your face and gently combing through the knots.  He held you until you cried yourself to sleep, and, when blackness came, for the first time, the nightmare didn’t.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, okay, so this chapter isn’t one of my best, I’m sorry! Work has been insane, and I’ve got my Mum coming to stay and so this all felt a little rushed, and I didn’t have time to edit or anything. So, let’s just say that our girl is all over the place and this chapter kinda reflects that (yes, it’s reflecting that and not my currently manic life). Also, I’ve decided this is going to be five chapters, just because of how I wanted to break the story up. There’ll be a bit of a time jump in the next one. Thank you for reading! Enjoy…

When you woke the next morning, the space beside you was empty.  You lay for a moment, pushing the hair back out of your face so that you could rub the sleep from your eyes, relishing in the several hours of uninterrupted rest.  It was something that you hadn’t managed since Jax had left you to go back to Charming and you had to admit that you felt better for it, fresher somehow, though your grief still churned in your stomach.  

With a groan, you reluctantly rolled from the bed, stretching when your feet hit the floor and feeling the discs in your spine complain after a night spent on the lumpy futon mattress.  Tig’s kutte was still hanging on the back of the door, you noticed, and that reassured you that at least he was still there after you’d shut him down so harshly yesterday.  You’d almost been surprised that he hadn’t pushed you away when you’d crawled into bed with him and fallen apart; almost, but not quite.  There wasn’t much that Tig wouldn’t do for you, you knew, and just the fact that he’d raced to your side when you hadn’t showed up at Jax’s funeral told you how much he cared.

You shuffled into the living room, eyes immediately falling on the wild-haired outlaw where he sat, half in the room, half on the balcony, watching the town down below slowly awaken.  His legs were stretched out in front of him, a thin curl of smoke drifting upwards from the cigarette he had clutched between his fingers, and he glanced up as you made your way over to drop down at his side.

‘Morning, Tigger.’

‘Morning, baby.’  You smiled as he leant over brush a soft kiss to your forehead, leaning into him so he could snake an arm around your waist.  ‘How’re you feeling?’

‘Better,’ you admitted.  ‘A little bit, at least.  I’m sorry about yesterday.’

‘Don’t be.  My fault.  I should’ve known you wanted to be alone.’

‘But I don’t,’ you argued.  ‘Not really.  It just took me a while to realise it.’

He shot you a knowing look and you shifted closer, pleased once again that he seemed to know you better than you knew yourself most of the time.  ‘Did it help to cry it out last night?  Get it out of your system?’

You nodded.  ‘Yeah.  I mean, it still sucks, but I feel… more human, I guess.  I think I needed it.’

‘It’s gonna suck for a long while,’ he told you.  You knew it was true.  After all, it still sucked that Opie was gone, suddenly and violently, and it had been years.  But the acknowledgement that you’d now be carrying your grief for the both of them with you for the foreseeable future made you feel exhausted all over again.

‘How was the funeral?’ you asked, seeking to change the subject, at least a little, though your thoughts were incapable of straying far from Jax.  ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t there.  I-I just couldn’t.’

‘It was nice,’ was all he offered, until you fixed him with a questioning look.  ‘Look, it was small, okay?  Jackie did a lot of things to piss a lot of people off.  It was just SAMCRO and family.  Tara brought the kids down.’

‘What about the other charters?  They didn’t show?’

He sighed.  ‘How much do you wanna know, Y/N?  Things got real ugly right before.  I don’t-’

‘Tell me.’

Another sigh, or possibly a quiet huff of frustration, Y/N wasn’t sure, but then Tig squeezed her tighter and stubbed out his cigarette.  ‘He killed Marks.’

‘Shit.’

‘Yeah.  That pissed the blacks off real good, I’ll tell ya.  Had the Niners out for blood.  Then the wily bastard managed to convince The Collective that the move on their HQ was a power play, August Marks trying to move up in the world.  Said he killed Pope when the boss found out what he’d done.  I don’t know how he pulled it off, but it’s looking like they bought it.’

‘And the Irish?’

‘Ha.’  The laugh was humourless, and Tig shook his head.  ‘Well, he killed himself a King.’

Your eyes widened.  ‘God…’

‘Yeah, he wasn’t doing anything by halves.  He was all out, off the rails, guns blazing.  Negotiated a deal between Connor and Alvarez.  Connor’s gonna be supplying the wetbacks as an independent contractor.  He becomes the target instead of us, and the Mayans protect him from the IRA blowback.  Everybody wins.’

‘Not everybody.’  Tig’s revelations had begun to amplify the voices in your head, doubts that you’d been pushing down since news of Jax’s death had reached you, and you cleared your throat now, fighting back tears as you gnawed on your lip, wondering if you’d been right all along and praying that you hadn’t been.  ‘Tig, before he died, Jax… Did he say anything to you?  Did he… What was he like?’

‘Desperate.  Lost.  He was leaving, that’s what he kept telling us.  Leaving Charming, leaving the club.  We all figured he was headed back to you.’

‘He called me,’ you confessed.  ‘A little while before it happened.  I didn’t think much of it at the time.  I was just happy to hear his voice, y’know, to know he was okay.  But since then I can’t get it out of my head.’

‘What did he say?’  Tig’s brow had creased in concern as he watched you struggle with this new reality.  

‘Not much, but it… It sounded like he was saying goodbye.  He was never going to come back here, he made that pretty clear, and he told me he’d always be listening, but… I-I don’t know.’  You reached up to wipe away a stray tear that had escaped and was trailing down your cheek.  ‘Do you think Jax’s accident was really an accident, Tig?’

For a moment, he just watched you, piercing blue gaze locked on yours, and you could sense him wrestling with himself, trying to figure out what you wanted to hear, what you needed.  But then his shoulders slumped and he bowed his head.  ‘No.  No, we don’t.  The timing of it, the way he was acting… It just doesn’t make sense.’

Now the tears renewed their efforts, and you let them fall freely as you nodded slowly, your worst fears confirmed.  It had been too much of a coincidence and you’d known it: Jax going out exactly the same way as old JT on the same stretch of road.  It hadn’t been a problem with his bike or oil on the asphalt or any unfortunate error that had taken his life.  It had been his choice and that fact tasted bitter on your tongue.  ‘He killed himself.’

‘Y’know he faced a Mayhem vote?’ Tig asked.  ‘Yeah, he lost it.  Killed Jury.  Members killing members.  You don’t just walk away from that.’

‘And that’s when he told you he was leaving?’

‘Yeah.  We botched the execution.  We were supposed to tell everyone that he got away and then he was just gonna disappear.  Him and Chibby, they had it all planned.’

‘So, why did he do it?’  Your frustration was only growing, grief morphing into anger at the knowledge that he’d chosen this, to leave you, to end it all.  ‘If he had a chance to walk away, to get his life back, why the hell would he do something so stupid?’

‘For the club.’  Tig stated it plainly, as if it were obvious, and of course it was.  Because it was always about the club.  You’d learnt that the hard way.  ‘With Jackie dead, Marks’ guys, the Niners, the Chinese…  They feel justice has been served.  Scores are settled.  We’re talking peace on the streets again.  And the club’s out of guns with no repercussions.’

‘JT’s legacy,’ you murmured, and Tig nodded.

‘Exactly.  Jackie finally got his wish.’

The anger within you flared, burning red hot so that it seared your insides, and you pushed yourself to your feet, pacing to the balcony railing and planting your hands on it as your vision blurred.  Yes, Jax had got his wish.  He’d left you all alone, put the club first, without any thought for what it might do to you to lose him.  Just like Ope had sacrificed himself for your freedom.  Though you were grateful, in your darkest moments, you’d found yourself cursing the long-haired biker, wondering how he could have made that decision.  What good was your freedom without him by your side?  You’d rather have spent forever on the run, flying along the highways on the back of his bike, your arms wrapped around his waist, than moved on alone.  But you never got a say, it seemed.  It was never down to you.

‘Hey.’  Tig was at your side, large hand smoothing down the length of your spine, but you shrugged him off.  ‘Baby-’

‘No.’  You whirled towards him.  ‘No, it isn’t fair, Tig!  They always leave!  They always fucking leave, and I’m just left here with this hole in my heart, and I don’t know how to fix it, and I don’t know how to live without them, and- and-’

‘I know.’  He took a step towards you, tentative at first, then, when your legs gave out, he caught you, folding himself down to the ground with you in his arms.  ‘I know, sweetheart.  I know it hurts, and I know you miss ‘em.  We all do.  Jackie, he was just trying to do what was best, and Ope too.  They didn’t mean to make you feel like this.’

‘Well, they fucking did!’

That was when the world slipped away from you.  You couldn’t breathe and every part of you felt damp from the sobs that overwhelmed you and the sweat that clung to your skin, feverish from the rage that still burned.  You were vaguely aware that you were being lifted, hoisted up into Tig’s arms, and then there was water, a hot stream of water washing over you as you collapsed against a tiled wall.  A deep soothing voice murmured in your ear as thick fingers combed through your hair, and, when you finally came to, Tig was crouched in the shower in front of you, his clothes plastered to him as he sluiced the shampoo down the drain.  Your pyjamas were soaked through but you didn’t have it in you to care, and you sank back down to the floor under the spray.

‘Hey, you back with me, baby?’  At your slight nod, one corner of his mouth quirked in relief.  ‘Good, that’s good.  Now, c’mon, get your ass up.  Get yourself outta those clothes.  You’ll feel better once you’ve gotten cleaned up, alright?  Wash it all away, sweetheart.  It’ll help, I promise.’

He turned his back as you did as you were told, peeling off your tank top and shorts and letting them fall to the ground.  The drumming of the water against your body was soothing, and you scrubbed at your skin until it was red raw, finding that, as you did so, the repetitive motion calmed you, extinguishing the flames of anger and replacing it with a numbness that you latched onto gratefully.

When you were done, you turned off the shower, and stepped into the towel that Tig had waiting for you, wrapping you up in it so he could pull you into his embrace.  It felt good there, safe, and you relaxed into it, sucking in deep lungfuls of air as the burn faded away.  Tig was still here.  You weren’t alone.  Tig wouldn’t leave you.  If you held onto that, everything would be okay, you were sure of it.  You just had to hold on.


	3. Chapter 3

‘We need to talk.’  You groaned as Tig switched off the TV, lifting his head from where it rested in your lap so he could sit upright, twisting around to face you.  His curls were wild where you’d been teasing your fingers through them, and you might have laughed if it wasn’t for the serious look on his face.

‘About what?’

‘About your life, baby,’ he pressed on, despite your obvious reluctance.  ‘About what you’re doing now.’

It had been two weeks since you’d fallen apart on him, cracking up at the realisation that Jax had taken his own life; two weeks since he’d carried you into the bathroom and forced you into the shower, letting the steady drumbeat of the water against your skin coax you back to reality; two weeks since he’d taken you, dripping wet, into his arms and held you until you’d started to slowly feel whole again.  It hadn’t been easy, coming back from that, but as time passed, slowly it began to feel like less of a struggle to crawl from your bed each morning.  Tig’s company helped, more than you’d ever admit.  Not being alone gave you a purpose, a reason to get up each day, and you were grateful that he’d stayed, though a part of you knew that it was inevitable that he too would leave you one day, go back to the club that he loved.  It was just how it worked with the MC.

Now, you sighed, leaning back in your seat and letting your shoulders sag as he fixed you with a pointed stare.  ‘I’m sitting watching TV with my friend,’ you snarked, arching an eyebrow.  ‘Or I was anyway, until the jackass turned it off.’

He shook his head, undeterred.  ‘You know what I’m talking about.  When I first came here you had a job, a life.  That doesn’t all just go away ‘cause Jax is gone.  When was the last time you went into the office?’

‘I don’t know.  A month ago maybe?  Right before he died.’

‘And how long did they say you could take off?’

Your mouth went dry.  Honestly, you’d pushed the thought of work and your boss to the back of your mind, the guilt you felt at leaving them in the lurch only making your grief even harder to deal with.  You thought the phone had probably rung several times over the first week or so, but after that it had been quiet, and you hadn’t been in the right headspace to take any calls.  You wondered how the foundation was getting on without you, who was picking up the slack you’d left behind in your absence.

‘They didn’t,’ you admitted, hanging your head and picking at a small stain on the knee of your pyjama pants.  ‘I kinda didn’t tell them I wasn’t going in.  They don’t know about any of it.  I just sorta stopped showing up.’

You wouldn’t have imagined that an outlaw like Tig Trager had it in him to look like a disappointed parent.  But, you supposed, he was a father, so it made sense really.  His mouth dropped into a stern frown and his brows knitted together, and he rubbed at his temples as though your confession had given him a headache.  ‘You’re killing me, doll.’

‘I’m sorry,’ you insisted, your voice pleading.  ‘I wasn’t thinking, okay?  And it’s not like there was anyone here to do it for me.  I just… I shut myself off, you know that.  It was either that or just… I don’t even know.’

‘I know, baby, I know.’ He sucked in a deep breath, letting his hand fall down to his chin when he stroked it over his scruff, deep in contemplation for a moment.  ‘How are you even paying for this place right now?’

‘I have savings.  Or, had, I guess,’ you corrected yourself.  You’d had a small amount tucked away in the bank, but you guessed it would have been mostly depleted by a month’s rent and bills with no income to take its place.  ‘I haven’t really thought about it.’

‘Well, you gotta start thinking about it, Y/N.  You’ve built yourself a sweet little life here.  You can’t throw it all away just ‘cause you got your heart broken.’

‘But it hurts,’ you argued, pathetically.  ‘It hurts so bad and the thought of having to explain that…’

You tailed off, and it was his turn to sigh, reaching over to wrap an arm around your shoulders and pull you into his side.  ‘I know.  It’s not easy, it never is.  But you can’t just throw everything you worked for away, you hear me?  I won’t let you do that.’  At your nod, he went on.  ‘You get on with your boss?’

‘Yeah, he’s cool.’

‘So, you think you could go talk to him?  He doesn’t need to know all the gory details, sweetheart, but if you talk to him, maybe he won’t kick your ass to the curb, huh?’

  ‘Maybe.’

‘Gotta be worth a try.’

 

*****

 

You pulled at the hem of your skirt as you approached the offices of the foundation the following morning.  After so long shuffling around your apartment in your sweatpants or pyjamas, you felt horribly exposed in the fitted outfit that you’d decided was your most professional for the meeting that lay ahead.  Your heels were already pinching your toes, and your hair was escaping from the bun that you’d fashioned on the top of your head.

Sucking in a deep breath, you hitched your handbag further up your shoulder and pushed your way in through the front door, keeping your head down and avoiding eye contact with the girl on reception as you headed for the stairs.  You knew that Mel would be hurt by how blatantly you were ignoring her, but you also knew that she’d be bursting with questions that you weren’t yet ready to answer.  You were aware of Tig’s eyes fixed on your back as you started the ascent, watching from the sidewalk where you’d left him, and you cursed him silently for insisting on escorting you to the door.  You knew as well as he did that, had he not been there, you’d have been sitting in the cafe on the corner right then, sipping on a coffee and wasting time until enough minutes had ticked by that you could slink back home with your tail between your legs and pretend to be heartbroken that Charlie hadn’t seen fit to give you your job back.

Instead though, you were rounding the corner at the top of the stairs, your gaze falling on your desk as a surprised hush fell over the office, and you forced yourself to keep moving, barely even pausing to nod to your colleagues before you stepped up to Charlie’s office door and gave a sharp rap on the solid wood.

‘Come in.’

Pulling open the door, you stepped inside, your heart hammering in your chest as you tugged it shut behind you, hiding yourself away from the curious stares that tracked your every move.

‘Y/N?’  His tone was shocked, slightly icy, as you painted a tight smile onto your face and slipped into the chair in front of his desk, placing your bag on the floor beside you.  ‘Well, I’ve gotta say, I’m surprised to see you.  I wasn’t sure you’d ever have the nerve to show your face in here again.’

‘I know.  I’m sorry.’

‘I think you owe me one hell of an explanation, don’t you?  You can’t just fail to show up for an entire month, dump your entire workload on your colleagues, not even bother to make a call-’

‘I know,’ you said again, leaning forward to rest your hands on his desk, tugging on your fingers as you fought to keep the tremor from your voice.  ‘I know.  That’s why I’m here.  I can’t apologise enough, Charlie, okay?  And I don’t expect you to forgive me or even consider letting me come back, I don’t, but I didn’t want to leave things this badly with you, so if you’ll just hear me out…’

You tailed off and he cocked his head to one side, waiting for you to go on.  You swallowed hard.

‘I lost someone.  Someone I loved, a lot, died suddenly and unexpectedly a month ago and, honestly, I’ve been a little lost since then.’

‘You were with someone?  I didn’t know.’

‘It was complicated,’ you admitted.  ‘He was someone I knew a long time ago, and we hadn’t spoken in years.  Even when he was here I kinda knew he wouldn’t stick around, but I thought he’d just leave.  I didn’t realise he’d…’ You felt tears well in your eyes and you fought them down, carrying on as though if you just kept talking they wouldn’t be able to escape.  ‘Anyway, I was a mess, and I should’ve called, I know, but I couldn’t even function really.  And then a couple of weeks later I found out that he actually killed himself, and it wasn’t an accident like everyone thought it was, and that kinda wrecked me all over again.  And then someone pointed out to me that I couldn’t let it ruin my life, because I pretty much just shut myself off from the world, and I realised they were right, that person that told me that, so I got myself up and dressed and I got in my truck and I came here.  And now here I am.  A-and I’m sorry.’

Charlie nodded slowly, leaning forward and steepling his fingers as he regarded you over the top of his glasses.  ‘The person that told you that, you should really thank them, Y/N.’

‘I know.’

He considered you for a beat longer before he spoke again.  ‘You can take it as holiday time and I’ll make sure it’s deducted from your entitlement.  Craig’s been covering your work, so he’ll be able to get you all caught up.  I want you back here bright and early tomorrow morning ready to get started.  Is that clear?’

You were struck dumb by the instructions, gaping uselessly at him until you managed to pull yourself together long enough to croak, ‘Y-you’re not firing me?’

For the first time, his frown lifted into a smile, kind and genuine as he reached for your hand over the desk, giving it a gentle squeeze.  ‘I know what it’s like to lose someone, Y/N.  I know it’s not easy.  Just, next time, call, okay?  That’s all I ask.’

 

*****

 

Fast forward another two weeks, and you burst through the front door and kicked off your heels, tugging your hair free from the tie that held it as you called out a greeting.

‘Hey, baby,’ Tig responded from the kitchen, where you found him standing over a tantalisingly delicious smelling pan on the hob, stirring it every now and then as steam rose. ‘How was your day?’

‘Good,’ you assured him, hopping up to perch on the counter so you could watch him cook, drumming your feet against the cupboard door.  ‘Think I finally got the partnership with that new food bank in the centre of town back on track.’

‘That’s great.’  You were rewarded for your hard work by a beaming smile that split his face, and  he leant over to press a sloppy kiss to your cheek.  You caught him by the neck of his shirt before he could pull away, pressing your own lips to the corner of his mouth and drawing a soft chuckle from him before he went back to the pan.  ‘Knew you could do it, sweetheart.  It’s good to see you getting back into the swing of it all.’

‘I am,’ you agreed.  ‘It feels good to be busy, to be doing some good.  And I wouldn’t be if it wasn’t for you, so thank you.’

‘Ahh, you don’t gotta thank me, doll, you know that.  It’s why I’m here, right?’

‘Right.’

‘So.’ He removed the pan from the heat, setting it to one side and tugging open the door of the oven to check what was going on inside.  ‘Did you finally catch up with Mel today?’

‘I did.’  You’d been avoiding her since you got back, first because you hadn’t wanted to talk, and then because the longer you ignored her, the harder it got to actually approach her and say hello.  But that day, when your lunch break had ticked around, you’d squared your shoulders and marched up to the reception desk, tapping your nails against the smooth wood until she’d glanced your way.  

_‘What?’_

_‘I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you.’_

_‘Oh, so you admit that’s what you’ve been doing then?’_

_‘I know, I know.  I’m a shitty friend.’_

_‘You know what it’s like to have to find out what’s going on with you through office gossip?  It sucks, Y/N.’_

_‘I know.’  You paused, waiting for her to give in, crack a smile, coaxing her further when you asked, with a hint of amusement in your voice, ‘So, what’s the grapevine saying then?’_

_‘That Jax died.  Is it true?’_

_‘It is.’_

_‘That must’ve sucked.’_

_‘It did.’_

_‘That’s why you fell off the face of the planet?’_

_‘Yeah, pretty much.’_

_She sighed, bundling up the paperwork in front of her and sliding it into the drawer at her side.  ‘Alright, well, I guess you can fill me in over lunch then, huh?  But you’re buying ‘cause you owe me, bitch.’_

It had been that easy.  Yes, she’d asked the questions you’d been dreading, but you’d handled them far more easily than you’d expected and, when she’d sensed you on the verge of tears, she’d changed the subject.  It felt good to have your friend back, and you knew you owed that to Tig’s incessant nagging too.

‘Well, how’d it go?’

‘It was fine.  It was good actually.’  You slid from your seat and padded over to the fridge, snagging a beer.  ‘She invited me out tonight.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah, to that club we pass on the way to the office.’

‘Well, we should go, right?’

‘No.’  You shook your head.  ‘I can’t.  I’m not ready yet, Tigger, I’m sorry.  One step at a time.’

‘Alright.’  He moved past you to fetch two plates from the cupboard, catching you around the waist as you stepped out of the way.  ‘But next time, we party.’

‘You got it.’


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I’ve finally finished writing this mini-series, and it’s now going to run to 6 parts, not 5 as planned. I got a little carried away and I didn’t want it to feel too rushed. So, there are 2 more updates left after this and then it’s all over. I’m not ready! Happy reading!

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a night out.  Possibly back in college, though you’d found yourself so busy with your classes and assignments and trying to hold down a job to fund the course that you hadn’t indulged often, and so it was with some trepidation that you eased your body into the one and only little black dress that hung in the back of your wardrobe.  It floated over your hips, dancing somewhere just above your knees, and you twisted this way and that as you inspected your reflection in the mirror.  You weren’t sure you recognised this version of yourself: this wasn’t the you that had fit in with the club, clad in ripped jeans and a tank top and a cocky smile; nor was it the neat, professional mask that you wore for the office.  No, this was something different, an amalgamation of the two, and it felt more comfortable than you cared to admit.

With your ink on show and your hair down, you were more yourself than perhaps anybody in the new life you’d built for yourself had ever seen you before, and yet you were older, wiser, than you’d been back in Charming, and that showed in your eyes, the way you carried yourself.  In the back of your mind you wondered whether Opie would even recognise you if he saw you this way, your lips curved in an experimental smile as you held out a booted foot for inspection, but you were quick to shut the thought down.  Tonight wasn’t about Opie, and it wasn’t about Jax either.  It was about you finally giving yourself over to your new life, utterly and completely, solidifying friendships, allowing yourself to have a little fun.

A low whistle tore your attention away from your own reflection, and you couldn’t help but grin as Tig ran an appraising gaze up the length of your body.  ‘Wow, baby, you look incredible.’

‘Not so bad yourself.’  With his jeans hanging low on his hips and a dark button-up beneath the soft leather of his kutte, it was true.  There was something about the deep crinkles around Tig’s eyes and his easy smile that got all of the crow-eaters warm and giggly, and you could understand why.  ‘Are we really doing this?’

‘You promised Mel, right?’

‘I know.  I kinda had to.  This was, what?  The fifth time she invited us out in three weeks?’

‘Exactly.  She’s your friend, sweetheart, and, from what I’ve seen, you don’t have too many of those around here.  So, we’ll go, we’ll drink and we’ll dance, and maybe you just might make a few more.’

You sighed.  ‘I know what you’re doing.’

‘And what’s that?’

‘You’re trying to get me back on track, back at work, surrounded by people to watch out for me, ready for when you leave to go back to Charming.’

The smile fell from his face, and you cursed yourself as he shook his head, resting one hand on his hip.  ‘You think I wanna leave you, doll?’

You shrugged.  ‘I think you’re gonna have to at some point and you know that, and you’re trying to make sure I’ll be okay.’

‘And that’s a bad thing?’

‘No, that’s not.  But you leaving is.  I like having you here, Tigger.’

‘I like being here, baby, I promise.  I’m not going anywhere just yet.’

*****

Mel was laughing, head tossed back as she shimmied her hips, surrounded by a crowd of faces that you didn’t recognise.  Every cell in your body strained away from the crush, trying to propel you out of the door and all the way home to your bed, but Tig’s hand was steady in yours as he led you over, reaching out an arm to embrace your friend when her eyes lit up at the sight of you.

‘Oh my God, she actually came!’ she shrieked over the pounding bass of the music.  ‘How in the hell did you get her here?’

‘You kidding?’ Tig teased, casting you a playful glance.  ‘I couldn’t stop her!  She practically dragged me all the way here!’

‘Alright, alright, shut up,’ you grumbled.  ‘I’m here, okay?  And I need a drink, so can we just go find the bar or-’

‘I’ll get you a drink,’ Tig told you, giving you a gentle push towards Mel who, even in that moment, was reaching for your hand.  ‘Go.  Mingle.  Dance.  I’ll be right back.’

Without the outlaw at your side, your discomfort increased tenfold, but the next few minutes passed in a blur of shouted introductions and sweaty embraces from people you’d never met before and whose names you’d never remember, and then he was back, shoving a double shot of whiskey into your waiting fingers and chuckling when you knocked it back in one.

‘Having fun yet?’

Fun was pushing it.  You weren’t having fun.  You were still vibrating with nervous energy and wishing you were tucked into the corner of SAMCRO’s clubhouse with a bottle of beer and your family around you, the way you used to have fun way back when, but the room filled with a song you knew, and Tig’s eyes were sparkling, and Mel was watching you anxiously as if expecting you to bolt at any moment, and you decided right then to just go with it and let the night be whatever it would be.  Setting your empty glass aside, you snaked your arms around Tig’s neck, moving closer as his hands slipped to your hips and pushed yourself up to whisper in his ear.  ‘Dance with me.’

*****

Your skin was slicked with sweat as you pushed your way clumsily over to the bar, the heels of your boots sticking to the floor as you leant your forearms on the cool surface and waited to be served.  You’d managed to relax as the night wore on, the buzz of the alcohol thrumming through your veins making you feel weirdly chilled, fluid, so that you were happy to dance and laugh and let Tig pull you close, without any of the pain and grief that seemed to dominate your life.  It had felt good, being in his arms.  It had felt right, like you were just a girl who hadn’t lost her world, and he was the man watching out for you.  It awakened a low hum in your bloodstream, a reminder of what it had felt like to lose yourself in him, something you’d forgotten long ago.  But it had fixed you once.  Who’s to say it wouldn’t again?

Your thoughts were interrupted by a large hand coming to rest on the small of your back, and you twisted your neck, expecting to see the wild-haired outlaw behind you, but instead it was a stranger, eyes glazed as he licked his lips, his touch creeping south as you wriggled away.

‘Get off of me.’

‘Hey, don’t be like that.  I’m just being friendly, gorgeous, alright?  What’s your name?’

‘None of your business.’

‘Well, that’s not very nice.’  He inched closer, so you could feel him pressed against you, his body flush with yours as the edge of the bar dug into your ribs.  ‘Saw you dancing before.  You’re real good at it.  Bet you’re good at other things too.’

‘Look, I came here with someone, okay, and he’ll kick your ass if you don’t leave me alone.’

‘That old guy?  Nah, you’re lying.  No way a girl like you ends up with a guy like that.’

You opened your mouth to argue, steeling yourself to shove him fiercely away, when all of a sudden the searing heat of him was gone from your skin as he was hauled backwards and thrust back towards the dancefloor.

‘What’s your problem, man?’ Tig was glaring at him, that dangerous glint in his eye that you’d seen so many times before.  ‘Pretty sure she asked you to leave her alone.’

‘Just trying to have some fun, dude.  Chill.’  The guy spread his hands wide, all innocence now that he was forced to face up to his antics.

‘Not with her, you don’t,’ Tig warned him.  ‘She’s with me.  Now, get the hell out of here.’

Your would-be dance partner scrambled away, not needing to be told twice, and, as the outlaw turned back to you, you realised that your pulse was pounding in your ears.  Where before you had felt pleasantly buzzed, now you felt dizzy and out of it, as if you weren’t really there, and, noticing the way you wobbled alarmingly, Tig slipped an arm around your waist, holding you upright as he navigated his way through the club, leading you outside into the chill night air.  

‘Hey, you’re okay.  You’re alright.  I’ve got you, baby.’

‘Why are guys such assholes?’ you whined as he propped you against the wall, hands falling to your hips to keep you upright as you sighed heavily, visibly deflating before his eyes.  ‘They’re gross and disgusting and they act like you’re their property or something, or they’re not like that at all and they leave you, and they expect you to just be okay and to keep going, and it sucks, Tiggy.  It really sucks.

‘I know, sweetheart, I know.’

Gentle fingers brushed your hair back from your face, and your eyes locked on his, the piercing crystal blue grounding you so that the world stopped spinning at last.  ‘Why can’t they all be like you?’

‘Oh, doll, I’m one of a kind, you know that.’

‘But you- you always want what’s best for me, and you always know what I need before I even know myself, and you look after me, always, all the time.  I don’t know what I’d do without you, Tig.’

‘Oh, baby, c’mon, let’s get you home.’

‘No.’  You fought against him as he tried to pull you away, fisting the edges of his kutte in your hands so you could drag him closer.  ‘No, I don’t want to go home.  I don’t want to go back inside.  I just… I want… I want…’

You didn’t know.  That was the truth.  You didn’t know what you wanted.  You didn’t want to go back into the bar that was full of sleazy guys that wanted to hit on you and the close-knit group that Mel had brought you into, drinking and dancing without a care in the world.  And you desperately didn’t want to go back to your cold, lifeless apartment, where you could still picture Jax lounging on the couch and stare down at Ope’s truck from the balcony.  What you really wanted was to go back in time and remember, how it felt to be loved, how it felt to be alive, to not have to deal with the anger and the sadness day after day after day.  You wanted to burn it down.

Tig froze in surprise as you yanked his face down to your level, crashing your mouth against his.  The kiss was sloppy and drunken, and you could feel his resistance all the while, but you pushed through it, determined.  His scruff scratched against your skin, and his grip bit into your waist, but he made no move to either kiss you back or push you away, just standing there as you worked out your frustration.  The taste of whiskey on his lips reawakened the buzz you’d felt earlier, and the solidity of him, how real and alive and there he was, only encouraged you, so that you were practically climbing him as you fought to make him give in, to you, to this, to the whole messy chaos of it all, but, when he remained still, you pushed him away with a whimper.

‘God, do you not want me?  Really?’

‘You don’t need this right now.  You might think you do, but it’s not right, baby.’

‘Tigger-’

‘C’mon, I’m taking you home.  No arguments, okay?  You need to sleep it off.’

You didn’t have the energy left to fight him on it.

*****

The flat was dark, quiet, as you shuffled inside, arms wrapped around yourself.  The hallway flooded with light as Tig followed, flicking the switch and locking the door, but you were already gone, stumbling into your room and sinking down onto the bed.  

‘We okay, baby?’  He was standing in the doorway, a dark shadow illuminated from behind, concern writ over his face as you shrugged uselessly.  ‘You know this isn’t ‘cause I don’t want you, sweetheart.’

‘Then why?’

‘Because it’s not right, right now.  It’s too soon.’

‘And it wasn’t after Ope?’

‘That was different.’

‘Why?’  You staggered to your feet, clumsy in your heels.  ‘Why was it?’

‘Because you were angry then.  You were so angry and I had to find a way to get it all out of you.  This time… This time you just seem sad.’

You shook your head in disbelief.  ‘You think I’m not angry?  Seriously?  You think I’m not- I’m not desperately trying not to hate Jax for what he did, what he chose to do; not to hate myself for wanting to hate him?  You think I don’t hate all of this, just- all of it, and the club, and my life, and everything else?’

At a loss for anything else to do, your hands fell to the bottom of your dress, and you eased it up your body, tugging when it caught on the curve of your hips and discarding it carelessly on the floor beside you.  Standing there, clad only in your underwear and those damn boots that were pinching your toes and making you sway unsteadily, you weren’t sure that you’d ever felt so exposed.  Tig’s eyes roamed over you, but he remained in the doorway, keeping his distance, unsure.  ‘Doll, c’mon-’

‘I need this, Tigger.  I’m standing here right now telling you that I’m drunk and I’m sad and I’m angry and I’m so, so lonely, and I need you.  Are you really going to tell me no?’

For a beat, his eyes locked on yours, and you really thought he might, that he’d turn around and walk away and leave you standing there, half-naked, with tears trickling down your cheeks.  But then, with a soft grunt, he was closing the space between you in two long strides, hands cupping your face as he hauled your mouth to his.

It felt different this time, now that he was kissing you back, coaxing small whimpers to fall from your lips when he allowed you brief, precious seconds to catch your breath, just small breaks in the onslaught of sensation as you tumbled onto the bed.  The sheets were rucked up beneath you, and the weight of him was almost too much, pressing you into the mattress until you were gasping for breath, but you didn’t tell him to stop.  You couldn’t.  You were already too far gone, lost in the feeling of his hands on you, wandering, exploring, reacquainting, and the rough denim of his jeans as he moved over you, grinding, greedy for more.

And more he got.  Everything.  Anything that he wanted.  You let him take it all.  It felt good to relinquish control, incredible to let your mind shut down and the physical take over, pleasure and pain and endless needy want combining until you were a trembling, strung-out mess, desperate for him to drive you to your ends, tumble with you over the precipice, and at the same time never wanting it to stop, needing it to go on and on and on and on, this sweet relief, this blissful escape.

Afterwards, he tugged you into his arms, and you were asleep before you had a chance to speak a single word, your head on his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat lulling you into the deep, dreamless dark.  It felt good to be held, to have your body curled so close around another, warm and soft and hard and everything you needed in that moment all at once.  Until morning came…

*****

Your head was pounding.  The steady pulsing of the pain woke you gradually, and then in a rush as you jolted upright, fisting your hair in your hands as the room around you span.  Without giving any thought to the warm body stretched out beside you, you sprung from the bed, tugging open the bedroom door and scurrying to the bathroom, your stomach churning all the while, and when you fell to your knees in front of the toilet, the bile was hot in your throat.  You couldn’t breathe, your eyes burning as your gut punished you for the fun you’d forced on yourself the night before and, when you finally pushed yourself shakily to your feet, a ghost of a girl stared back at you in the mirror.

‘Hey, you okay, baby?’

Your eyes met the reflection of Tig’s, the breadth of his shoulders, the dark hair that tickled over his chest, and you swallowed hard, shaking your head.  ‘Not really.’

‘Come back to bed, sweetheart, huh?  Get some more sleep.  It’ll make you feel better.’

‘No, I- I can’t.’  You shook your head, regretting the action immediately as the room lurched alarmingly.  ‘I can’t.  I just… I can’t do this, Tiggy, I’m sorry.  Last night was a mistake.’


	5. Chapter 5

‘So, where’d you disappear off to the other night?’

You sighed heavily, taking a sip of your coffee as Mel fixed you with an inquisitive look.  Although you’d seen her to wave to each morning as you’d entered the office, this was the first chance you’d had to catch up after the night out that had ended in disaster, and you’d known the question was coming.  ‘Some loser was hitting on me so Tig took me home.’

‘Did he now?’  Her lips quirked in a salacious smile.  ‘And how was that?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Are you kidding me, Y/N?  That guy spent all night looking at you like he wanted to eat you up.  You’re seriously gonna tell me he took you home and nothing happened?’  The truth must have been written all over your face as she let loose a loud burst of laughter.  ‘I knew it!  You guys have history, right?  I knew it was only a matter of time before it repeated itself!’

‘It’s not that easy, Mel,’ you warned her, receiving only an exaggerated eyeroll from your friend as the waitress approached, interrupting the conversation to set two burgers on the table.  ‘It’s not easy at all actually.’

‘And why not?  I mean, he’s a biker, like an outlaw-type, right?  That’s hot, Y/N.  And he’s got the whole older man, ‘do me, Daddy’ thing working for him too.  That’s extra hot.  Tell me you can’t see that?’

‘Oh, I can see it,’ you agreed, because your attraction to Tig had never been issue.  ‘But it’s more complicated than that.’

Her smile faltered, and she snuck a fry into her mouth as her expression morphed from amusement into one of kindness.  ‘Because of Jax?’

‘Yeah, because of Jax.  And because of Opie, and that whole club mentality.  It’s just… It’s not something I can be a part of anymore.’

‘You think Tig will leave you too?’

‘Maybe.’  You shrugged.  ‘Actually, yeah, I know he will.  Because the club always comes first, Mel.  You don’t understand what it’s like.  He will always have to put SAMCRO before me.  It’s just the way it works.’

‘But he’s stuck around for a while now.  So, maybe this time it’ll be different.’

‘Maybe.’  Another noncommittal shrug as you processed that thought, before giving a sharp shake of your head.  ‘I’m just not sure it’s a risk I can afford to take right now.  It’s just… It’s too much.  I can’t lose anyone else.’

‘Okay, I have one more thing to say and then I’ll shut up about it, I swear.’  You arched an eyebrow at her, but she was undeterred as she pushed on.  ‘Whenever you talk about the club, the guys you knew there, you always talk about how Tig knows you better than anyone, right?  How he’s always been the one that’s there for you, that knows what you need?  You can’t underestimate that, Y/N.  Even if it doesn’t last, even if he leaves, maybe he’s what you need right now.  I mean, he pretty much made you talk to Charlie and get your job back, right?  And he forced you out with me and my friends, to actually have a little fun and some sort of, like, social life?  So, maybe he can help you get your mojo back too.  You just have to remind yourself that it’s temporary, keep it casual or something, y’know?  You deserve a little bit of happiness.’

‘Maybe I do.’

*****

Tig was engrossed in the TV when you got home.  You hovered in the doorway to the living room for a long time, just watching him.  It wasn’t that you’d fallen out over your complete turnaround on what you wanted.  He’d been perfectly fine to shrug it off and leave you to sleep off your hangover alone, and you hadn’t really spoken about it since, but there had been a frosty atmosphere between you that you were growing to hate.  What had once felt easy, curling up together on the couch to watch a movie most evenings, making idle chit-chat about your days, cooking together, eating together, now felt forced, tense, and you weren’t quite sure how to fix it.  

Now, you looked at him, really looked at him.  You always forgot about the age gap when you were with him, but you knew he was a lot older than you and looked it too.  But there was something distinguished about the deep lines around his eyes.  They were eyes that had seen things you could never even imagine, you were sure, and the hands that had held you so gently and gripped you so firmly had taken lives, beaten people bloody.  But there was something reassuring about the solid bulk of him - the broad shoulders and barrel chest that you’d huddled against so many times, when it had felt as though your world was falling apart, but he’d held it together.  He always found a way to hold you together.

Your quiet sigh finally alerted him to your presence, and he twisted in his seat, lips quirking at the corners when he registered you watching him.  Even with the tension that hung in the air, he was still pleased to see you, standing strong having made it through another day, and suddenly more than anything you wanted Mel to be right.  You wanted him to hold you and fix you, and who the hell even cared about tomorrow, right?  Because today, he was there right in front of you, and he wanted you.

Shock flashed across his features as you crossed the room towards him, rounding the couch so you could slide onto his lap and snake your arms around his neck.  His gaze was locked on yours, uncertain, and you held it for a moment before you ducked your head to brush your lips over his.  There was no hesitation this time, not like there had been before, and his hand crept up to cup the back of your neck, holding you in place so he could deepen the kiss, sinking into you like he was coming home.  

‘You sure you want this?’  There it was, the hesitation you’d been expecting, though it faded quickly with your eager nod.

‘I do.  I’m sorry, Tigger.  I know I’m all over the place, but you’re here, and I love you.  You know I do.  You are, like, literally the only person that has never ever let me down, and I just… I want to make the most of the fact that you’re here instead of worrying about what Jax would think, or if it’s too soon, or what’s gonna happen when you have to go home.  I just… I just want to live in the moment with you for a little while.  Is that okay?’

As you’d been speaking, he’d been turning you in his lap, guiding you until you had a leg either side of his own, and you squealed now as he stood, lifting you easily as you clung to him.  ‘Sure, doll, I think I can manage that.’

*****

Being with Tig Trager was as easy as breathing.  You discovered that quickly and then you revelled in it.  He fit you in every way, playing your body like an instrument, or an engine that he knew exactly how to tune, practically reading your mind, always ready and willing to give you whatever you wanted.  It felt natural to curl up on his lap each evening with the intention of watching something on the TV, only to lose yourself in his kisses, searing hot, devouring you slowly until it felt like there might be nothing left, but you were okay with that.  If he broke you down, then you could build yourself back up again, and maybe that was exactly what you needed.  There were more nights out, each one ending the same way, with you wrapped around Tig in the dark corner of the club, eyes glazed, cheeks flushed, until he dragged you home so you could tumble into bed together and the teasing could shift into something frantic and real.  

‘So, it’s good then?’ Mel asked, as you lounged against her desk one morning, exhausted but with a soft smile that refused to slip from your lips.  ‘You’re happy?’

‘I am,’ you told her.  ‘Even though I know it’s not gonna last, right now it’s good.  You were right.  It’s exactly what I needed.’

And that, you thought, was the difference.  You knew deep down that, had Opie survived, you would have married him one day.  You would have been his old lady and you would have probably ended up sitting at Gemma’s right-hand once Jax’s divorce had gone through.  And with Jax, you’d been so desperate for him to stay, wishing for it, praying for it, for a future, that you’d been on edge the whole time, afraid of what would happen if he left, what your life would become without him.  But with Tig you refused to allow yourself to feel that.  It was good.  It was amazingly, heart-falteringly good.  But it wasn’t forever.  You didn’t need to worry about him going back to the club, because you already knew that it was inevitable, and you let him help you build up the other aspects of your life, secure in that knowledge.

You had friends now, real friends - Mel and her gang - and you enjoyed their company, genuinely, feeling for the first time since Charming as if you maybe actually belonged somewhere.  And, with Charlie announcing his promotion, you were thinking of applying for the vacancy he’d leave behind: more responsibility, more money, a step up in the world.  The hole that Jax had left in your heart, the wound that was completely Ope, they were both still there, but the vessel had grown around them, beating steadily on in defiance of the grief that could have torn you down.  You could do this.  The weeks turned into months and you finally began to breathe again.  Life was good.

*****

‘So, I’ve been thinking…’  Tig trailed off, and you set down your beer, twisting towards him on the couch in anticipation of what would come next.  Usually an announcement like that was followed by an idea that had sparked into his mind while you’d been working.  

_I’ve been thinking we should take a trip down to the coast this weekend, whaddya say?_

_I’ve been thinking I should clear out of here on Friday night, huh?  You could invite Mel over, maybe some others, have some girl time?_

_I’ve been thinking we should try out that new Mexican place in town, right?  They deliver.  I already checked._

Or, of course, it could be the alternative, a goodbye, something that you knew you were prepared for should it happen.

_I’ve been thinking it’s probably time for me to head back, sweetheart.  You’re good here now, right?  Look at you, you’re strong as shit, baby.  You don’t need me anymore but the club… The club does, doll.  You know I gotta do this._

But what actually came out of his mouth was something that you could never have expected.

‘We’ve got a good thing going here, you and me, right?’

‘We have.’

‘Right.  So, what if we made it more permanent?’

‘Tig, what are you-’

‘I’m talking about leaving the club, Y/N,’ he cut you off, eager to get his news out, though your face fell as he went on.  ‘I’m talking about walking away from the outlaw life and building a new one here, with you.’

‘You… You really want that?’  You tried to keep your tone even, even as panic overwhelmed you.  ‘To leave SAMCRO?  To leave Charming?’

‘Honestly?’ He shrugged.  ‘I’m getting too old for that shit.  And Chibby’s got it all under control now things have settled down again.’

‘But you’re his VP.’

‘Someone else’ll step up.’  He leant forward, reaching for your hands, and you hoped he couldn’t feel them shaking.  ‘Look, I’ve been waiting a long time for this, baby.  I saw you with Ope, and with Jax, and I wanted what they had.’

‘So, why didn’t you say anything?’

‘Because I thought they were better for you.’  At your frown, he explained.  ‘Look, I’ve never really had something like this before, doll.  I’ve never really had somebody that cares about me like you do, that sees me like you do.  But you see it all and somehow, now, after all this time, you still want me.  I can’t just walk away from that, y’know?’

‘Tig-’

‘I love you.’  The words fell from his lips in a rush, running together so that it took you a moment to figure out what he’d said, and you tugged your hands away, wringing them together as you took a moment to process this turn of events.  You hadn’t seen this coming, not a hint of it.  And what he was offering you now was something that you’d always wanted: to be put before the MC, to come first for a change.  But it didn’t work that way, it just didn’t.  You’d been burned before.  

‘You said Chibby has everything under control right now, that things are settled.  But what if they weren’t, Tig?  What if it all flares up again?  What then?’

‘Not my problem.’

‘They’re your family.’

‘But I’d be out, Y/N.  An ally, maybe, but not a member.  It’d just be you and me.  You telling me you don’t want that?’

‘You know, outlaws who fall in love with me tend to end up dead.’  The fact stuck in your throat, choking, suffocating, but Tig was undeterred.

‘But I won’t be an outlaw anymore.  I’ll be living clean, baby.  I’ll be whatever you want me to be.  But I’ll be here with you.  That’s what matters, right?’

He was kissing you before you had a chance to respond, dragging you into his arms, and you could feel him smiling against your mouth.  It was bittersweet.  For so long you’d wanted this, and now you found you feared it.  You were a jinx, a curse to those in the club.  They fell in love with you, they promised you everything, and then you lost them.  That was just how it worked.  And now you would lose Tig.  It was inevitable.  You didn’t know how or when, but it would happen.  And the knot in your stomach that you almost thought you might be able to live without returned, twisting and tightening, even as you sighed and gave yourself over to him, curling yourself around him and letting go.  He would leave you now, you knew it.  One way or another.

Something within you withered and died.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it. No announcement coming at the end of this one. The Other Guy and its many sequels have finally come to an end. I’m not sure whether to be deliriously happy that I finally finished this project or whether to cry because it’s all over! Thank you so so so so so much to everybody that has followed this reader’s story. It has meant the world to me! And I really hope that you like the ending…

‘You want breakfast?’

You lifted your head at the sound of Tig’s voice, though you remained lost inside it, oblivious to what he was asking until he moved closer and asked again.

‘Hey, baby, I’m frying up some bacon.  You want some?’

‘What?’  You blinked dazedly.  ‘Oh, no, thank you. I’m fine.’

‘You sure about that?’  Setting the pan to one side, he crossed to the table, folding himself onto the chair beside yours and reaching out to press the back of his hand to your forehead.  ‘You’re looking a little peaky, doll. You feeling okay?’

‘I’m fine,’ you said, though you really weren’t.  Fear churned in your gut, persistent and nauseating, and the kindness in the outlaw’s eyes as they met yours did little to help.  ‘Sorry, I’m just… tired, I guess. I didn’t sleep well.’

‘I know,’ he admitted.  ‘Felt you tossing and turning all night.  You have a bad dream or something?’

‘Or something.’  You didn’t offer any more information and he didn’t press you, instead climbing to his feet and returning to the stove.  

‘Alright, well, I’m good here if you wanna go grab another couple of hours.  Might make you feel better.’

‘I’m fine,’ you said again.  

You had a feeling that you both knew you were lying.

*****

Things had changed.  You could feel it, like a storm brewing in the air, dark clouds gathering above you.  What had once felt easy and carefree now felt laden with the potential for death, for loss, for grief.  What had once felt safe now felt as if it could shatter you into a thousand tiny pieces. Since Tig’s announcement that he was giving up his place in the club, leaving the town he’d loved for so many years, to be with you, you couldn’t see past what that might mean.  You knew, deep down, that it was paranoia and superstition that fuelled your fear, but that didn’t make it any easier to live with.

Opie had loved you.

Jax had loved you.

And now Tig.  

But Tig was still breathing, and you wanted so badly for him to stay that way that you couldn’t let yourself relax, couldn’t let yourself love him back as you had with the others.  To do so would almost certainly guarantee that he’d leave you, forever, leave this world behind, and you couldn’t bear to think about it, couldn’t stomach the notion that you were the curse that would send him to his end.

It wasn’t only that that bothered you.  The most peaceful time of your life had been the years after you’d left the club behind.  Away from the outlaw lifestyle, and with the security that came from time passing with no sign of The Collective breathing down your neck, you’d finally let go of the burden of your past.  Since you’d lost your parents, it seemed, your life had been a whirlwind of violence and control and death, and for the first time you’d found yourself lost in a haze of serenity. It had ended, suddenly and drastically with one call from Jax, and just like that the club had crashed back into your life, bringing all of its drama and chaos along with it.  Though no blood had been spilled in your town, you’d been intensely aware of the risk, the threats that lurked in the shadows, and it had set you on edge, fearing your own complacency as much as the enemies that came with the outlaw life. Though Tig had sworn to step away, he was known by gangs up and down the California coast and further afield, and that chaos lived inside of him.  You didn’t fear him, of course not, but you feared the wolves that he could bring to your door, and that, combined with your desperation to avoid the sort of grief that it had nearly killed you to overcome, had turned you into a nervous wreck.

If Tig noticed, he didn’t say anything.  Perhaps because he knew that you needed to be left alone to work through this change, to find your own peace with it.  Or perhaps because he was afraid of just what outcome would arise from any attempts to talk about what was going on with you.  It honestly could have been either, but you were grateful for it. You weren’t sure you could give voice to your feelings without falling apart, and so you soldiered on, made it through each day, buried yourself in your work and tried to ignore the nagging doubts that plagued you.

*****

It was only a week after his announcement that you arrived home to find Tig packing.  One week. Seven days. His battered holdall was bursting at the seams as he shoved another shirt inside, holding it down with one hand while the other battled with the zip, and you stayed silent, watching him until the task was complete.  And then he turned to you.

‘Hey, baby.’

‘You going somewhere?’

‘Yeah.’  He ducked his head, unwilling or unable to meet your gaze - you weren’t sure which.  ‘Yeah, I’m, er- I’m heading back to Charming.’

‘Oh.’  That was all you said.  It was all you could say, and apparently that was exactly what he needed to know.

‘You’re not gonna ask me to stay?’

‘I…’ You tailed off.  It hurt your heart to see him preparing to leave you, it did.  It stung more than you’d thought possible to see him removing his possessions from their homes around your room and you knew their absence would haunt you, but at the same time the knot in your stomach loosened, just a little.  ‘You know I love you, Tigger.’

‘I know.  And I know what it’s doing to you, me being here.  I saw it in your eyes when I told you I wanted to stay and I tried to ignore it, but I can’t do it anymore, doll.’

You took a tentative step towards him, then another, finally sinking down onto the bed, and waiting as he took a seat beside you, reaching for your hand as if it was instinctive, no thought required.  ‘I’m sorry.’

‘You don’t have to be.’

‘I do.  I feel like I do.  You make me so happy, Tig, you do.  Having you here has been… I can’t even put into words what it meant to me that you came, what it means that you stayed, that you wanted to stay.  But I just… I can’t live like this.’

‘I just- I don’t get what you’re afraid of.  I’ve tried to understand it and I just don’t get it.’

‘Every person that I’ve gotten close to in the MC has died, Tig, and they’ve died bloody.  Every person in my life that I’ve truly, truly loved… My parents, my brother, Opie, Jax. I don’t want that for you.’

‘But it’s not you, baby, can’t you see that?’

‘I can.  Logically, I can.  But there’s something in me that’s louder than logic and it is terrified of my past, of anything related to it.  Because it’s all just violence and pain and death. I broke free of that when I walked away, and then Jax brought it all crashing down around me again, but it’s just… It’s getting worse and I can’t ignore it.  I feel like I’m getting sucked back in.’

He nodded.  ‘Alright, I get it.’

‘You do?’

‘I do.’  He exhaled loudly, curls fluttering around his face as he shook his head.  ‘Shit, this is one hell of a mess, right? I should never have assumed you’d want this.’

‘But I did.  I do.’ God, this was hard.  You could see the disappointment in the depths of those crystal blue irises and it hurt like a knife to the gut.  Hurting Tig was hurting you but you had to be true to yourself. Besides, he always could read your mind. He still knew you inside and out.  ‘Our timing’s just always been off, hasn’t it? Sometimes I wonder, if we’d found each other first… I mean, if it had been you I fell for right from the start instead of Jax, then Ope, then Jax again… It’s not like I’m wishing them away or regretting what we had, but I just… I wonder if it would have been different for us.’

‘It’s something I’ve thought about,’ he confessed.  ‘More times than I can count. But it is what it is, right?  And it’s too late for us now.’

‘I hate that.’

‘I know.’

You leaned into his side, and he wrapped a strong arm around you, unwavering, steady as he’d always been.  He was your rock, your anchor, and you wished that he wasn’t anchoring you to a past that you wanted to escape.  You wished it was different, that you could get shut down that voice in your head that promised Tig’s death if you asked him to stay, but you knew from experience that you couldn’t.  You had to let him go.

‘So, you’re leaving.’

‘Tonight.  Figure I’ll stop off at a motel when it gets dark, hit the road again at dawn.’

You shook your head, lips quirked in a smirk.  ‘You know, that’s pretty much exactly what Jax said the last time he walked out of here.  I only spoke to him once more after that, before…’

‘Yeah, well this ain’t gonna be that way, baby, okay?’  He levered himself to his feet, tugging you up with him so he could wrap you up in a warm embrace.  ‘I’m leaving, yeah, and I’m giving you the space you need, but this doesn’t have to be like it was before.  This isn’t goodbye. You can call me whenever, you hear me? You need anything, you just gotta pick up the phone.’

‘Okay.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah, I hear you.’

‘You better promise me, doll.’

‘I promise.’  You pulled back to stare up at him, eyes raking over his features, committing every line, every perfect flaw to memory.  ‘I promise I’ll call, okay? I don’t want you to disappear out of my life, Tig. I just… I just need some distance. And so do you, to keep you safe.’

He nodded, and after that, it seemed there was nothing left to say.  The last kiss was salty with tears, and you scrubbed them away with the back of your hand as he hovered in the doorway and watched you cry.  ‘I’ll text you when I get back, okay?’

‘You better.’

‘Don’t be a stranger, Y/N.  I love you, baby, always.’

‘I love you too.’

And, with that, he was gone.

*****

‘You just let him leave?’ Mel was incredulous, mouth hanging open as you nodded slowly, picking at your fries with a disinterested air.  As soon as you’d delivered the news, trying to keep it short and sweet without going into detail, she’d dragged you out for lunch, shoving you into a booth and refusing to let you order until you’d started talking.  Now, having told her everything, she was staring at you as if you’d lost your mind.

‘Uh huh.’

‘You let him just pack up and walk away?  Just like that?’

‘I had to, Mel.’

‘No way!  Nuh uh, Y/N, you’re crazy, okay?  And I’m your best friend round here, so I have the right to make that judgement.’

You couldn’t help but smile at that, though you disagreed, and you knew she’d see it too, eventually.  ‘It was the right thing.’

‘But you loved him!’

‘I did.’

‘And that’s a problem, why, exactly?’

‘Because everybody that I’ve loved that’s caught up with the MC has died, Mel, and I’m talking violent, bloody death.  And it nearly destroyed me. You saw me, after Jax. After Ope it was even worse. I can’t let myself go there again.’

‘But Tig was alive, Y/N.  He still is! You could be with him right now!’

‘Yeah, I could,’ you agreed.  ‘And I could be wondering just how long it might be until he got reeled back in to the drama and the whole outlaw life, and how long it might be until it killed him too.  I couldn’t live like that. I left it all behind for a reason.’

‘You’ve got some childhood trauma hidden somewhere deep in there, don’t ya, girl?’

‘You have no idea.’

She scoffed, taking a bite of her burger, and you smiled as your cell buzzed, reaching for it and opening the text that had just come through.

‘So, you’re really okay with this?’ Mel asked after she’d swallowed her mouthful, and you tore your attention away from the response you were tapping out, and fixed her with your most sincere stare.

‘No, I’m not okay with it.  But I will be.  And besides, I’ve got some pretty kickass angels watching my back.  I’m gonna get through this.’

‘How can you know that?’

‘Because I’m free,’ you stated, with a confidence that you were surprised to find you felt right down to your bones.  ‘For the first time in a long time, I’m free. I’ve got my job, I’ve got friends to hang out with, I’ve got a place that I love.  I’m not running from anything, I’m not hiding who I am. I feel like a weight’s been lifted and I know that, once I stop missing him, I’m gonna be better off for this decision.’

‘What if you don’t stop missing him?’

‘Well, that’s okay too.  He’s still my friend, Mel.  And he’s alive. That’s all that matters.  And so am I. Everything’s gonna be okay.’

You glanced down at your phone, hitting send on the message you’d been typing and setting it back down on the table.

_Sucks waking up without you, baby.  You moved on yet? Tx_

_Never.  But that’s okay.  What about you? Crows glad to have you back? x_

_You know it, sweetheart.  So, how’s it going? Hear anything about the job?  Rooting for you… Tx_

_Charlie says he has a good feeling.  He’s already moved my stuff into his office.  Having lunch with Mel right now. Life is good, Tigger.  I owe you, forever. Y/N x_


End file.
